The Depths Below
by StrangeHalt
Summary: Pirate AU. Erik is a pirate and a mercenary with a deadly reputation. With Daroga as his first mate, he and his crew are on a voyage through some of the most dangerous seas known to man, for a mission that promises as much coin as it does peril. But when the cold-hearted captain encounters Christine Daae, his icy facade will begin to shatter. 2004 Phantom. Loosely based on POTC.
1. Chapter 1

**Somethimg that should be understood before reading:**

 **Pirate Erik- Has experienced much more of the world than our normal Erik. He is powerful and confident and his deformity/mask serves as an intimidation to further his reputation, rather than a hindrance to his life. He has the same diva flare however, and wears a mask with a bit more flash than his usual white one.**

 **Pirate Christine- Is not the innocent and naive ballet dancer of the opera. She is smart, cunning, and very well aware of her charms and how to use them. She has not been sheltered nor guarded and therefore possess a much wider range of skills and abilities.**

 **They both, however, retain their love of music, passion, and entwined destiny.**

* * *

 _Gather weary traveler, as I have a tale to tell._

 _I know you're beaten and bruised,_

 _And I'm pressed for time as well._

 _This is important to all Pirates who pass,_

 _And they never really listen, I'm always the one see them last._

 _My warnings are purposed with the message to heed,_

 _As I work to reveal the true horrors of the sea._

 _Twisted corpses, and shipwrecked souls are all resulted from this._

 _And all I get in return is a disbelieving hiss._

 _The chords of fate despise me warning you,_

 _Because this legend only speaks in truth,_

 _Of Calypso, the personified vengeance of the sea._

 _She rises from it, bubbling angrily._

 _Her mutant smile and seaweed hair is all that's ever seen,_

 _And those who survived it have never come clean._

 _She was created to tip the scales,_

 _To eliminate the horrors that humanity held._

 _Don't you sail, Don't you row, and certainly don't you swim,_

 _If you see the rotting nails of Calypso that got many of them,_

 _As they are out to claim you; it's victory they seek,_

 _And the outlook of many seems quite bleak._

 _Destler the Pirate,_

 _Infamous and feared,_

 _As the Phantom did appear._

 _He gazed at her for a second and was spared,_

 _Because she truly felt pity that he was scared,_

 _He dared fight the way of fate,_

 _Though his efforts were way too late._

 _Escaping the hands of a watery death,_

 _He clawed his way back with his last dying breath._

 _Don't you dare search for her in the modern day,_

 _As this legend is as old as many would say._

 _Caution is still needed in the depths of the sea,_

 _Young Pirate, please heed this warning, for it is the key._

 _I don't want to find another floater in the sun._

He stared out at the dark waves that crashed against the bow of the ship, sending cold ocean spray up onto the deck. The wind whipped around his black hair as darkness began to settle over the open sea. His blue eyes scanned the water, searching for any signs of life. He turned his head slightly as a splash on the starboard side caught his attention. He caught sight of a dark blue tail going back under the waves and he cursed under his breath. The Sirens would be singing tonight. The right side of his face was caressed by shadow, hiding his own dark secrets. A soft melodic tune hit his ears and sent a shiver down his spine. The angelic tone caught the attention of the rest of the crew and he raised a gloved hand.

"Be ready." he said softly. "The Songs are starting."

Several other soft tones joined the first one, creating a beautiful alto harmony. The wood creaked beneath the feet of the crew as they all began to make their way to the rigging. Lightning flashed to the port side, lighting up the rapidly darkening skies. The dramatic and deep alto of the Sirens enveloped the entire ship. The crew braced themselves against the shrouds as several of the vile creatures surfaced from the waves beside them. With beautiful faces and long hair cascading over their shoulders, the Sirens sought to seduce the crew, as they had almost every night previous. They had succeeded in drawing a few men off the ship even as Erik fought to keep them from their watery graves.

He would be cursed before he let any more of his men die. He did the only thing he knew he could. His deep, silky voice echoed out over the waves, barely heard over the drowning volume of the Song. But he knew, quiet as his voice might seem, his crew would be able to hear him.

" _Yo ho, all hands_

 _Hoist the colors high._

 _Heave ho, thieves and beggars_

 _Never shall we die."_

His eyes flashed with the next lightning strike as he whipped around to face his men. The blue orbs had darkened with the storm and his long black hair lashed around his face. His first mate, Daroga, was the next to take up the verse of the song.

" _The King and his men_

 _stole the Queen from her bed_

 _and bound her in her bones_

 _The seas be ours and by the powers,_

 _where we will we'll roam."_

It didn't take the rest of the men long to join in, their voices all sounding together to drown out the Song that was surrounding them on all sides. Erik let a triumphant smirk flicker across his face as the deep, melodic tune managed to overpower the Sirens.

" _Yo ho, all hands_

 _Hoist the colors high._

 _Heave ho, thieves and beggars_

 _Never shall we die."_

Erik leaped from the forecastle deck down to the main deck, his voice ringing out loud among the 20 others to raise their song as loud as the thunder in the distance. A thud sounded as he landed, the planks vibrating beneath his boots. He threw his fist in the air as he started the next verse, determination underlying the grimness of his own Song.

" _Now some have died_

 _and some are alive,_

 _and others sail on sea_

 _With the keys to the cage_

 _and the Devil to pay,_

 _we lay to Fiddler's Green."_

It was obvious that the Sirens below knew what the crew of the _Phantom_ was doing, and their desperation grew. As the deck was enveloped in the grim song her crew was singing, the Choir began to screech. Their spellbinding tune began to dissipate as the pirates kept their voices in sync.

" _Yo ho, haul together_

 _Hoist the colours high_

 _Heave ho, thieves and beggars_

 _Never shall we die."_

The longer the pirates continued to sing, the easier they could see through the facade that the Sirens would like them to believe. The blonde and red hair shifted to pitch black, and the beautiful faces warped to grey skin and hollow cheeks. Their black eyes seemed to stare into the souls of the crew. Their vile appearance caused a couple of men to falter, but they quickly regained their composure as the next verse of the song started.

" _The bell has been raised_

 _from it's water grave_

 _Hear it's sepulchral tone?_

 _A call to all_

 _pay heed the squall,_

 _and turn yourself toward home!"_

An ear splitting shriek ripped through the night, making all the men drop to their knees and try to block out the sound. Erik launched himself to his feet and leaned over the rail, watching as the Choir dove back to the dark depths from which they came. He let out a breath of relief as he raked a hand through his rain soaked hair.

"They're gone." he said, leaning his weight against the rail and dropping his head. They were safe. For now, at least. But that was only one of their problems. Sailing through the Devil's Sea wasn't the smartest idea, and Erik was now learning why he was warned away from the area. But being proud as he was, he refused to let a drunken, low ranking Naval officer tell him what to do. The memory briefly flashed through his mind as he stood there, staring out across the temperamental ocean.

 _Roaring laughter and the sound of music echoed through the walls of the Dragon's Crypt tavern, lighting up the night in the small port town of Echo Bay off the coast of England. Erik leaned against the bar, pint in hand, as he stared out across the churning sea of people. His men had scattered when they first entered the tavern, and he was happy to leave them to their own devices for the evening. After everything they had been through, he thought they deserved a break. Who was he to deny his men a good time?_

 _Several women had approached him, but he had turned them away. He wasn't in the habit of indulging the way his crew did. He had enough respect for a woman that he wouldn't use her just for pleasure … most of the time, anyway._

 _His blue eyes caught sight of Daroga, who as always, had a woman on his arm and another in his lap. The corner of his mouth tugged upwards in a half smile as he silently shook his head at his best friend. Leave it to the Persian to test the bounds of his capabilities._

 _The mask he wore glinted in the light, the silver chains catching and reflecting the light of the chandelier above him as he turned back to the bar. Strips of golden leather were woven together, connected to the malleable black leather by strips of chain and fine stitches. The silver skull and crossbones in the middle of the top of the mask had a single small ruby as an eye, and soft black lace wound around his left eye. His presence had intrigued many, and that's when the whispers started._

 _He had heard it all many times before, but he couldn't help the self satisfied smirk that appeared on his lips when he heard the fear in their voices as they spoke about him._

" _Is tha' really him? Is tha' Destler?"_

" _Aye, mate. Cap'n of the Phantom."_

" _He serves Jones, boy'o. Anyone who follows 'im carries tha curse o' death."_

" _I've 'eard rumours of 'im. Tha mask 'e wears? Hides tha scars tha' Calypso 'erself made on 'is skin."_

" _Legend says 'e took down a Kraken wit' a single gunshot."_

" _Quiet!" another hissed. "'e hears ya talkin' an' he'll flog ya 'imself!"_

 _The legends that people could spin based on the terror that one caused were rather amusing. He growled as he caught sight of the moon in the sky. Saxe was late. And Erik didn't like to be kept waiting. He tipped back the glass, downing half of it in one gulp. He raised an eyebrow as movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. "You're late." he growled quietly._

 _The response he got was a loud laugh and he cursed under his breath. The man was drunk._

" _You're too serious, Erik. You need to loosen up! Have some fun."_

 _Erik turned on the man, careful not to cause too much of a scene. "Where's my map, James?" he asked, his deep voice coming off calm and collected. Oh, how he hoped Saxe brought it. If he didn't, there would be blood spilled on this night. Erik collected on the debts that he was owed. And James Saxe owed him a great deal._

 _James reached up and patted Erik's chest. "Calm down, mate. I've got it."_

 _Erik growled but released the officer. How one in the Royal Navy could end up owing a large debt to a pirate was quite the story, but one he didn't care to recount at the moment. "I am calm. You're the one who showed up dog drunk, kid."_

 _The Private, no more than twenty, scoffed. "I'mnot drunk." he slurred._

" _I think you are. And I also think that if you don't give me my map, I'm going to_ _take_ _it from you. And that won't be a pretty sight."_

 _The young blond frowned at Erik, seeming to notice for the first time how serious the pirate sounded. "Fine, fine." he muttered. He reached into the blue waistcoat he wore and pulled out a rolled up piece of parchment. He handed it over to the older man, losing his balance slightly and tipping to one side. "You know that's a suicide mission." he said. He let out a loud belch and Erik frowned distastefully._

" _I don't care what you think of my endeavors. It's none of your business, kid."_

 _James shrugged halfheartedly. "Barmaid!" he shouted. "Two pints!" He had noticed that Erik had finished off the golden liquid, and he wasn't about to let a friend quit drinking when there were still many kegs left in the storeroom. He turned his attention back to Erik, his eyes hooded as he drunkenly examined the pirate. "I'm notthe one taking mycrew to their deathssss." he said, chuckling at his own misspoken words._

 _Erik sighed as one of the women put two large cups of ale in front of them before scurrying off to take care of the other patrons. "I'm not taking them to their deaths."_

" _The waters of the Devil's Sea aren't theeasiest to navigate." Though the young man was drunk out of his mind, Erik knew he had a good point. But he was being paid quite a large amount of coin to do this. And he wasn't one to turn down coin. He didn't care if it came from a lowly trader or the Crown Prince of Astonia. As long as he was paid, he would do his job. Which is exactly what he intended to do._

" _I know," he said softly. "But it's nothing we haven't done before."_

 _Suddenly seeming sober, James turned and faced Erik with a serious face. "No, mate. You haven't done anything like this. Sirens. Kracken. Calypso herself. Davy Jones."_

 _Erik rolled his eyes and let out a bark of laughter. "Don't tell me you believe those legends, Saxe. Davy Jones isn't going to be sailing the Devil's Sea. And Calypso was just a story made up to scare away young sailors."_

" _They call it the Devil's Sea for a reason. If you make it out of there alive, you'll have to go through Deception Pass and the Depths of Death."_

 _Erik pinched the bridge of his nose, fed up with the input of the drunken sailor. "I think I can manage, James. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a ship to tend to."_

" _Fine," James muttered. "But don't say I didn't warn you."_

Erik sighed as he turned to look back at his crew. They were beginning to untangle themselves from the lifeline knots they had tied themselves to. Daroga had the smart idea of keeping them tethered to the ship in case anyone got the bright idea of diving in after a Siren. "Batten the hatches." he called. "We're in for a rough ride tonight."


	2. Chapter 2

Erik growled in frustration as he hauled yet another bucket full of sea water over the taffrail. It looked as if they were going to be waterlogged for the next _year_ , especially of this pattern kept up. They hadn't even entered the straights of the Devil's Sea. If there were storms this nasty every night _and_ Sirens on top of it, he wondered if they were ever going to reach the other side. His attention was grabbed when he heard footsteps approaching. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the frustrated expression that Daroga wore. "What is it, my friend?" Erik asked.

"Reports aren't good…" he started, glancing at the open sea that stretched before them. Who knew how much longer they would be sailing on these God forsaken waters. He certainly wouldn't be upset if they forgot the whole thing and turned around and headed back to Tortuga. "We lost about a quarter of the supplies. _Someone_ didn't tie down the crates like I showed them." With that, he grabbed the collar of the passing cabin boy, who let out a somewhat choked yelp as he was dragged back in front of the captain.

Erik sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Was _anything else_ lost?"

Daroga shook his head. "Cannons are useless for now. The only dry gunpowder is what we have in our pistols."

"Gustave," Erik said, turning his intense gaze on the young boy. His eyes widened as the Captain stared him down. "Take inventory of everything we have left. And spread the word that no one is to fire off a _single_ shot. I want all weapons available. I don't want to be caught unawares."

Gustav nodded vigorously. "Aye, Captain. Anything else?"

"Work on your knot skills."

With that, Daroga let go of the boy's shirt and nodded towards the lower deck, where a lot of the crew were working to salvage what they could. "Last night's storm was one of the worst we've seen." he muttered.

Erik nodded. "They're just going to get worse."

Daroga raised an eyebrow. "Then...then why exactly are we still sailing, Cap'n?"

Erik laughed. "I know you don't like it when things take a turn for the worst."

The first mate scowled. "Does anyone?"

"But, think of all the _coin_ , mate. Do you know how much we're getting paid for this?"

Daroga shook his head. He didn't recall Erik ever telling him that.

"A million pounds, my friend."

His eyebrows slowly rose. "Are you serious? Because for the love of Jones, Erik, I _swear_ if you're lying to me-"

Erik cut his friend off with a loud bout of laughter. "Nadir my friend, when have I ever lied to you?"

Daroga scowled.

"Right...when have I ever lied to you about something like this?"

He sighed. "Never."

Erik grinned. "Exactly."

"So what exactly are we doing out here? Other than getting letting the ocean kick our salt?"

He laughed. "There's an island off the Eastern coast of Draica called Padrine. Apparently there's something of great value hidden in the deep jungles. Our employer is compensating us for whatever we lose on the way there. And any ship we come across is ours for the taking."

Daroga raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "That sounds all fine and dandy, but did our _employer_ happen to tell you what it is we're looking for?" He didn't like going into anything blind, and frankly, he was pissed at Erik for not telling him sooner. Here he was, thinking they were on some sort of suicide mission, but hey. Who was he to question the orders of his captain?

Erik paused, sensing his friend's irritation. "You're mad aren't you?"

Daroga rolled his eyes. "What do you think, Erik?"

The Captain sighed. "Fine. Be like that. How are the rest of the men doing?"

As if on cue, Trevan appeared, a scowl on his face. "Cap'n. Nadir." The two men nodded and waited for him to continue. "We've got a pretty nasty tear in the foresail and in the main topsail. Brady told me there's a few planks missing from the hull, but it's nothing to be concerned about right now. He's more worried about the sails."

Erik pursed his lips, his deep blue eyes falling over the rest of the ship. His crew was still bailing water. Some of them were trying to untangle seaweed from the shrouds and others were trying to make sense of the mess of the main sail. The rigging had come loose during the storm and they hadn't had time to fully secure it before they had run into a rock field. "Get those sails fixed first, Trevan. Have Gustave help bail the galley. And keep an eye out for any other ships. We're going to need all the help we can get."

Trevan nodded and headed towards the quarter deck, raising his arm and wiping the sheen of sweat away from his forehead. Erik himself had been tempted to strip off the silk shirt he wore, but he had settled for stripping his coat and rolling the large sleeves up around his elbows. His normally ornate mask had been traded in for a simple black leather one as he worked.

Erik hummed to himself as he worked, lost in thought as he did. Maybe Daroga did have a point. Maybe he should have told at least his first mate what they were doing. And in all honesty, he probably should've just turned the old sea dog away the moment he laid eyes on him. But, he was blinded by what had been promised to him and his crew.

 _He was sitting at the table, a woman sitting on his lap as he swirled the remains of the ale around in the bottom of his glass. The loud sounds of the tavern drowned out anything else, even the words that fell from her perfectly sculpted lips. Erik hadn't even bothered to learn her name as she had set her eyes on him. His free hand curled around her waist as she leaned into him, her lips pressing against his neck._

 _He had lost track of his crew, but knowing them, they were either gambling to add to their spoils or enjoying the company of a woman. He himself was on his fifth or sixth drink, and it was obvious the woman in his lap was getting restless. He had to slap her hands away from his mask several times, but it didn't deter her in the least. She gently tugged on his arm as a signal, and his gaze swivelled over to her. Her eyes were slight with mischief as she glanced quickly to the upstairs, where he knew what happened behind closed doors. At her urging, and finishing off the last of his ale, he allowed her to tug him out of his seat._

 _She giggled as she led him towards the stairs, grabbing his arm and draping it over her shoulders. "Want me to show you the way to paradise, hon?" she whispered, pressing her lips to his jaw._

 _His head fogged by the sting alcohol, he just gave her a sultry smirk before he wrapped both arms around her and pulled her in for a kiss. After all he and his crew had been through the last month, he thought they deserved a little celebration._

 _The two of them stumbled up the stairs, Erik letting his hands wander farther than he normally would. As she was about to kick the door to one of the rooms open, an old voice pulled them apart._

" _I'm sorry to...interrupt...but I'm looking for someone."_

 _Erik growled in response, turning his head so the old man could see his scowl. "You'll not find them here." he snapped._

 _The old man just smiled. "I've been looking for you for a long time, Erik."_

 _Erik rolled his eyes. "Do I know you?"_

 _The man cocked his head "You might."_

" _Do you owe me money?"_

" _No."_

" _Then I'm not interested." he said, turning his attention back to the woman that was toying with his mask once again. He gently grabbed her wrist. "And_ _you_ _need to stop doing that."_

 _The old man leaned against the cane that was in front of him. "I've got a message for you." he said, growing tired of the younger man's arrogance._

" _From who?"_

" _Lafayette."_

 _Erik's attention was suddenly grabbed and he released his hold on the woman. He turned to face the old man, who's identity was still hidden in the shadows of his cowl. "What did you just say?"_

" _Ah, so you recognize the name."_

 _Erik frowned. "Lafayette is dead."_

 _The man took a few steps forward and pushed the cowl back, revealing his face. His features had weathered with age, but Erik would know that face anywhere._

" _I think it's time we had a talk."_

 _Erik glanced at the woman, who had lost interest in them. He flipped her a couple gold coins and nodded to the man in front of him before gesturing down the stairs. "Not here. Follow me."_

 _The two made their way outside, where the salty air invaded their lungs. Erik took a deep breath, glad to be rid of the smoke that had permeated the tavern. He led the older man towards a menacing black ship, an old carving of a corpse on the bowsprit. It glowed in the pale moonlight, adding to the already eerie tone of the vessel. The waves gently rocked the ship as they boarded, Erik leading him back to the quarter deck. Once they were comfortable in the Captain's Cabin, Erik looked at him expectantly._

" _You've grown since I last saw you, my boy." the man said._

 _Erik let a small smile grace his features. "Age has been kind to you, my friend."_

 _The old man chuckled. "I suppose you would like to know what I'm doing here."_

 _Erik nodded once before pouring his friend a glass of wine. "That would be nice. Not to say that I'm not happy to see you, Colath."_

 _Colath sighed and dragged a hand through his tangled and greying hair. "I bring news from Lafayette. And I'm sad to say it isn't pleasant."_

 _Erik raised an eyebrow. "How so?"_

" _Joline died. About three months ago."_

 _He paused as he was raising the goblet to his mouth. A solemn frown took over his features as he slowly lowered the glass back down to the oak desk. "What happened?"_

" _A raid. They were caught off guard. Astonian privateers, Lafayette believes. She was killed in the initial attack. Lafayette managed to push them back. It wasn't long before he and his men overtook them. He might be out of practice, but that boy still knows how to swing a cutlass."_

 _Erik was silent for a long moment, quietly mourning the loss of a friend. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? Lafayette built Draica to last. Obviously, something went wrong."_

 _Colath rolled his eyes. "I've searched the seven seas for ya, boy'o. This is the first I've seen of ya since ya left." He raised his own goblet, taking a long drink of the smooth wine. It trickled down his throat easily, and the flavor was rather appealing. "But there was something else."_

 _Erik raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small piece of rolled up parchment, placing it gingerly on the desk in front of his friend._

" _Joline died trying to protect this."_

 _Erik paused before grabbing the stained parchment, his fingers pulling at the twine that held it in place. He skimmed it, both eyebrows raising as he continued reading. "You're sure this is it?" he asked._

 _Colath nodded. "And so was Joline. She wouldn't have died for it otherwise."_

" _As much as I would like to, you know I can't just take you on your word, Colath." Erik said._

 _The old man chuckled and dropped two objects on the table, one a set of loaded black dice and the other a small golden compass. "Lafayette thought you would have objections. He sent this with me."_

 _Erik leaned over the desk, his mask glinting in the candlelight as he did. He glanced up at Colath before picking up the dice. He dropped them and they landed on a perfect set of snake eyes. He grinned as he looked back up at his friend. "I have to say, I never did miss that."_

 _Colath laughed. "You were always such a good loser, my friend."_

" _What exactly does Lafayette expect me to do with this?" Erik asked, leaning back in his chair as he rubbed his chin, a thoughtful expression on his face._

 _The older man's mouth quirked up in a half smile. "He wants you to find it."_

" _Find it?"_

 _He nodded. "Yes. He sent along instructions. It's possible he's located the map. But the only way to get there is through the Devil's Sea."_

 _Erik laughed mirthlessly. He had heard stories of the Devil's Sea. And he wasn't in any hurry to pass through himself. He wasn't about to sacrifice himself or his crew on some wild goose chase. He would leave that to the foolish young pirates who thought they could conquer the world. "Does he expect me to just go sailing through some of the most dangerous waters known to man? All on a hunch?"_

 _Colath growled and dropped a small purse on the table, the coins inside spilling out as it came in contact with the hard wood. Erik raised an eyebrow as several large gold coins went rolling across the desk, the skull in the middle seeming to taunt him as it rolled across the surface._

" _That's just the beginning."_

" _There's more?"_

" _A million pounds. Plus compensation for anything or any men you lose."_

 _Erik crossed his arms as he narrowed his eyes, not quite believing it. "You would stake your Piece of Eight on this?"_

 _Colath's eyes flashed in anger. "Yes." he snapped. "Lafayette is an old friend. I trust him. And you did too at one point."_

 _Erik scoffed. "That was a long time ago. He wants my trust? He has to_ _earn_ _it."_

" _What more could he do than he already has? The man almost gave his life for you."_

" _And lied to me for five years about it."_

 _Colath sighed. "Erik," he said. "Have you ever known me to be dishonest with you? About anything?"_

 _Erik thought for a moment before shaking his head. "No."_

" _Exactly. I trust Lafayette. And I trusted Joline. You think she would have died for just anything? She gave her life while keeping this secret safe."_

 _He sighed. "Fine. But if anything goes wrong-"_

" _You can expect it to."_

" _Then I'm holding Lafayette accountable. And I collect on those debts."_

 _Colath nodded. "I know. And so does he. It won't be a problem."_

 _Erik continued debating for a moment before stretching out his hand to the older man. Colath smiled and gripped his friend's hand, affirming the confidence he had in the young captain. "I'll need that map."_

Erik hadn't realized how long he had been working as the sun continued to beat down on them. He was jerked out of his memories when he heard a shout and the pounding of Daroga's feet passing beside him.

"Sail ho!"

His eyes scanned the horizon and he smirked when he caught sight of the vessel about five cables away. "Daroga!" he shouted.

The running first mate paused and turned back to his captain.

"Hoist the colors. Make sure to aim for the broadside. After all, dead men tell no tales."


	3. Chapter 3

Erik grabbed ahold of one of the ropes as the ship glided and recoiled over the large waves. He glanced over the bow of the ship, smirking when he saw the water churning. He was glad he hadn't taken off the ram last time they docked in Tortuga. Because they didn't have any cannons to spare, the ram was their best bet. That, and their skills with a blade. The sails had filled with wind and they were racing across the already tumultuous sea. It was a rough ride to begin with, but the added speed made it even more so. Erik took a deep breath of the sea air, allowing it to fill his lungs. He loved the ocean. It was like his second home.

He called out several orders to his men, and they quickly responded, letting out sails and loading what little gunpowder they had into their pistols. His red trimmed black leather coat billowed out behind him as he climbed onto the taffrail, rigging in one hand and spyglass in the other.

He smirked to himself when he saw the opposite crew scrambling to turn hard to port, trying desperately to outrun the _Phantom_. A fruitless but valiant effort nonetheless.

He quickly dropped the spyglass back into the pocket of his coat, his fingers toying with the hilt of his cutlass. The leatherbound D guard fit perfectly in his hand, and it had been a long time since he had been able to use it properly. His twin pistols were strapped on his opposite hip, the weight being made heavy by the gunpowder and bullets. "Brace yourselves!" he shouted, bending his knees slightly and distributing his weight evenly across the taffrail he was balanced on. His grip tightened on the shrouds behind him, and the ship shook beneath the crew as the ram collided with the smaller ship.

Erik briefly raised an eyebrow as he realized it was an Astonian Naval ship. But he shrugged it off. They needed supplies. Guns, ammunition, and food wouldn't be turned away. And Erik wasn't going to pass up a chance to hit the Astonian Navy when they were already shorthanded on ships. Especially after what their government had sanctioned.

Letting out a battle cry, he used a rope to swing over to the other ship, not bothering with the gangplank. He drew his cutlass as he swung through the air, the battle hardened steel glinting in the sunlight. His coat billowed out behind him as he released the rope, dropping to his feet in a crouch. The already damaged ship groaned under the impact and he immediately swung his cutlass, the blade coming in contact with flesh beneath a Naval uniform.

He didn't have to look behind him as he heard his crew following his lead, all dropping onto the deck after him. Hearing light footsteps running towards him, he shoved the now lifeless body of what he assumed was the first officer away from him, shifting his weight and turning on his heel as he crouched and quickly raised his blade. The edge of his steel came in contact with a smaller, lighter blade. But he was surprised at the force with which the opposing weapon was swung. He glanced up at the face of the officer before his mouth dropped slightly. Glaring back at him were two light blue eyes. Growling and using both hands to force the weight off his cutlass, he put his whole body into the attack, swinging his left fist out towards the officer.

But to his surprise, his blow hit empty air. Frowning, he turned to the side, where he saw a woman running towards him with a double handed swing. He easily sidestepped the blow, his eyes widening as she quickly turned for another attack, her blows precise and calculated. He tried to spin out of the way but hissed in both surprise and pain as the edge of her sword cut through the arm of his coat.

He looked back up at the woman, surprise on his face. What could she possibly doing on a Naval ship? Needless to say, he was fascinated.

"Tell me, what's a fine young woman like you doing on a ship like this?" he said, taking a menacing step towards her.

Her lip raised in a snarl, her eyes alight with frustration. "I _was_ minding my own business. Until someone decided to attack me."

He tsked her several times and lunged forward, the tip of his blade poised to sink into her skin. At this point, he didn't care about gender. He was concerned about who was standing in the way of him supplying his men. And anyone who did that was a threat, woman or not.

"I do believe you were the one that attacked me, love." he said, blocking her next thrust, using the momentum to spin them in opposite directions, holding his cutlass in front of him and his free arm outstretched to his other side to keep his balance.

They circled each other briefly, appraising the other's skill. Neither of them wanted to jump into a battle blind, and neither of them were willing to make the first move. The grace and skill that she moved with surprised Erik. He was used to seeing women running around a tavern, balancing trays and pints of ale, not dancing around the deck of a ship, defending what she thought was hers. Much less with a sword in hand. She growled and made a move, feigning left but striking right. As her blade clashed against his, she used her free hand to drive a punch into his gut, sending him backwards a couple paces.

He chuckled. "You know what you're doing, I'll give you that." he said after he caught his breath. "But I'm growing tired of this."

In a fluid motion, he used the tip of his blade to slice down the back of her hand, not enough to cause lasting damage, but to disarm her. As his blade came down, he hooked it through the guard of her cutlass, jerking it upwards and into the air. It went spinning and he caught it with his other hand, smirking deviously at her.

She had let out a yelp of pain as the sharp tip dug into her exposed skin, and she had jerked her hand back, creating the desired effect. Glancing to the side, she took off running. Erik smirked in triumph before realizing what she was doing. He sighed as she lept off a barrel, arms outstretched towards the mast rigging. He flung her sword forwards, the sharp edges cutting right through the rope just as she grabbed ahold of it and began to climb. Grunting, she dropped to the deck, rolling to avoid a kick from the pirate.

"Cute," he said. "But I've seen it all a million times."

She smirked up at him before twisting her body around and kicking her leg out and catching him at the ankle. Surprised and not expecting the sudden move, he dropped to the ground. She scrambled to her feet and ran towards him as he regained his footing. He grunted as she drove her shoulder into his abdomen and threw her elbow up into his nose.

Before she could move out of the way, he grabbed her arm and jerked her backwards. Pinning her back against his chest, his arms wrapped around her tightly, keeping her held in place despite her struggles. When he had finally got a handle on her despite his bleeding nose, he took a good look at her.

She wore a pair of breeches tucked into knee high black leather boots. A poet shirt hung loosely off what he assumed to be a toned figure. She had to be if she was able to put up that much of a fight. A black belt was cinched around her waist and the sheath for her sword hung on her left hip. Her lip raised in a defiant snarl as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but to no avail.

He glanced around to see that the battle had already been won, and Daroga was dragging the Captain towards him. Chuckling to himself, Erik shoved the woman away into the hands of another crewman.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" he asked, looking the Captain up and down. Daroga had forced the man to his knees, and blood was soaking through his uniform and dripping down his cheek. "What's your name, sailor?" Erik asked.

The Captain scowled, keeping his jaw clenched instead of answering.

Erik rolled his eyes and turned to the woman. "How about you? Got a name, love?"

She raised an eyebrow but followed the lead of her Captain. Daroga scoffed and stalked towards her, knife in hand. He pulled her up by the scruff of her shirt, keeping her in place with a hand gripping her hair and bringing the knife around to her throat.

"You gonna answer the Captain's question or do I have to slit her throat?" he asked.

The Naval Captain's eyes widened and he tried to jump to his feet, only to be forced back to the ground by two more crew members. He growled as Daroga tightened his grip on the woman, the edge of the knife biting into her skin. She clenched her jaw and bit her tongue to keep her predicament from getting worse.

"Raoul," the officer snapped. "And that's Christine."

Erik threw a grin towards his first mate, who slackened his grip on Christine. "Now we're getting somewhere." He crouched down in front of the other man. "Tell me, Raoul, what's a Navy ship doing this far away from your borders?"

Raoul looked like he was about to clam up again, but a yelp from Christine as her arm was twisted backwards made him reconsider.

"We were bringing a Diplomat back to Dracai."

The pirate raised an eyebrow. "And you chose to go through some of the most dangerous waters to get there? Besides, why would Astonia have a Dracain diplomat when your privateers just tried to destroy it and murdered over half of the dignitaries?"

Raoul shrugged. "I was just following orders."

Erik laughed mirthlessly. "That's all you people do, isn't it? Follow whatever orders your beloved _Prince_ decides to give you?"

Raoul opened his mouth but promptly shut it, deciding it best not to anger the pirate any more.

Then Erik whirled around to face Christine. The malice had gone from his expression and was instead replaced with curiosity. "And you…" he said thoughtfully. "What would a woman be doing on a Naval ship? You obviously aren't a wench...so why are you aboard?"

Christine glared at him. "That's not really any of your concern, now is it?"

He laughed again, this time amused by her reaction towards him. He glanced between the two, thinking it over.

The woman, Christine, obviously wasn't an officer. But the way she carried herself was proud and defined, something he knew a woman of pleasure wouldn't do. She knew how to handle a sword, which had impressed him. And she was obviously skilled in hand to hand. That was the first time he had ever seen a woman do such things. It wasn't common even among pirates. Sure, every now and again he came across a Captain who had his daughter aboard, teaching her the ways of the sea and how to follow in his footsteps. But even that was a rare occurrence. Seeing the Astonian woman handle herself in such a way that even a captain would envy was an interesting sight.

And he didn't want to dispose of it quite yet.

Whoever this Christine was, she was important.

Erik pursed his lips as he turned to Daroga. "Bind them. Put them in the brig."

The Persian looked at his Captain in surprise. "We're...we're taking prisoners?"

That wasn't a common practice with Erik. He usually took what he wanted from the vessel and sank it, crew and all. But on the rare occasion he would take a hostage.

"Yes. They could be...of value to us."

Daroga shook his head quietly but obeyed. "Aye, Cap'n."

The two prisoners were hauled to their feet and had their hands bound behind their backs before being escorted back to the _Phantom_. Erik went about searching the ship, noticing that it looked like it had been through quite a lot in the past few days, perhaps even more than his own ship.

He quickly sorted through crates, taking whatever he found that he thought could be of use. By the time he set fire to the sails, they had all but stripped the decking. He climbed back over to his own ship, the blackened wood staring at him menacingly.

He watched as Gustav and Trevan guided the hostages below deck where the brig awaited them. Erik made a mental note to make sure food got taken down there at some point that night. If they were going to be any use to him, they would need to be in halfway decent condition. Daroga caught up with him as he was making his way towards his quarters.

"Erik?" he asked tentatively. He wasn't quite sure the mood Erik would be in, so he thought it best to approach the Captain slowly.

The masked pirate turned to his friend with a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. Realizing that he probably wouldn't unless they were alone, Erik nodded for his friend to follow him. Once they were inside the Cabin, Erik crossed his arms and waited.

"You know I would follow you to the depths of the Locker if you asked me to," he started slowly, trying to judge what type of mood his friend was in.

"I know. And you know I wouldn't ask you to do that."

Daroga nodded. "And you know I don't question your judgement very often…"

The pirate chuckled to himself. "But you're questioning it now."

"...Yes."

Erik nodded. "I can understand why."

"Think about it, Erik. Do we really need two extra mouths to feed when we're running low on supplies ourselves? Do we really want them to know what it is we're doing out in the middle of nowhere for God knows what reason?"

Erik leaned his weight on the desk behind him. "Nadir. Think about it. Have you ever seen a woman on a _Naval ship?_ There has to be a reason she was aboard. She has to be important. Raoul, or whatever his name was, said that they were taking a diplomat back to Dracai. I don't trust the man as far as I can throw him, but what if he happened to be telling the truth, not just saying what he thought we wanted to hear?"

Daroga sighed and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "Well…"

"Exactly. I know most of the diplomats and dignitaries from Dracai. Lafayette made sure of that. But Joline was putting together a team of her own. I hadn't had a chance to meet them all yet. What if this woman was a part of that team?"

"Then she already knows why we're in the middle of the Devil's Sea, getting our salt handed to us." he said, crossing his arms. "If she was, don't you think she would have said something? Joline and Lafayette made sure that their people knew they could trust you."

Erik shrugged. "I'm not sure. But I know she's valuable."

"And the Captain?" He followed Erik's line of reasoning as far as Christine was concerned, but Raoul? He had absolutely no idea what role of importance the man could play.

"You know the crew as well as I do, Daroga." he said. "I might be a pirate, but I'm not a monster. They would tear her limb from limb if they had the opportunity. With him around, there's less of a chance of that happening. Besides, two hostages are always better than one. Isn't that what Colath always said?"

Daroga chuckled. "Aye. I'll make sure they're taken care of, Cap'n."

"Good. But don't show them too much attention."

* * *

 **Please review! Constructive criticism welcome**


	4. Chapter 4

Night was slowly falling across the deck of the _Phantom_ , the inky shadows swirling across the oak planks as the sun began to set behind the horizon. Erik was surprised that the water was as calm as it was, the waves lapping gently against the bow of the ship as it slipped slightly across the sea. His eyes scanned the waters, happy to find that it looked like they would be in for a quiet night.

His head swivelled around to Gustav, who he heard coming up behind him with the old bucket and mop, about to swab the deck.

"Evening, Cap'n," the boy said, tipping his head to the side as he approached.

Erik nodded in response, acknowledging the greeting.

"Cook's got dinner ready, sir." Gustav said, remembering to pass along the message. "Dried meat and some vegetables."

Erik chuckled to himself. He really needed to find a cook that knew how to make something _other_ than dried meat and vegetables. He had lost track of how many evenings they had scarfed down the same bland meal. But, he figured it was better than nothing. He just hoped the man managed to avoid cutting himself. Erik wasn't fond of finding blood caking the greens.

He turned and headed towards his cabin, leaving the young boy to his work. He had been thinking it over all day, wondering what the best way to get through to the hostages would be. He didn't think the Captain would be all that hard to crack. A few floggings and the man would be begging for mercy, willing to let all his secrets spill.

But the woman was more of a mystery.

Erik could tell by the determined and rebellious gleam in her eyes that she would be trouble. She wouldn't break as easily as her companion. Erik wasn't a monster, and he wasn't going to resort to the same tactics he would use on Raoul. She would need more of a gentler touch, one he wasn't sure he possessed. But Erik was nothing if not adaptable. One way or another, he would get what he wanted from her.

"Daroga!" he shouted, gaining the attention of his first mate from across the deck.

The Persian looked up and saw Erik beckoning him over. Silently hoping it wasn't for the reason he thought it was, Nadir grabbed his bumper and stood from his seat on a crate before heading over to his friend. He took a large swig of the ale from his cup as he approached the captain, a teasing smile on his face. "Why don't you take a meal, Cap'n? If anyone deserves a break, it's you."

Erik chuckled and shook his head. "There's no time for rest, my friend." he said. "Have Cook bring two meals to my cabin. And a bottle of red."

Daroga raised an eyebrow before internally groaning, knowing exactly what the next part of the request would be.

"And bring the girl. Christine, I believe her name was. Make sure to throw some scraps to her companion. I don't want him starving to death."

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Erik?" he asked. Daroga had been questioning the mindset of his captain quite often over the last day. First taking hostages? And now inviting one of them to his cabin? He knew Erik wasn't often swayed by a pretty face, and the woman they had taken aboard was undeniably attractive. Beautiful, even. And the Persian hoped that Erik wasn't just trying to get her in his bed.

Erik gave his friend a questioning look. "Do I need to make that an order?"

Daroga sighed. "No, sir. I'm just...skeptical."

Erik laughed, the last few rays of dying sunlight glinting off the chains on his mask. "I understand, my friend. But trust me, I _do_ have a plan."

Daroga still sported a dubious expression but nodded, biting his tongue in the process.

"Before you feed him, feel free to question the officer. But don't do any lasting damage, I still need him alive."

The thought brought a small smile to Daroga's face. He had been needing an outlet for his frustration lest he take it out on his friends. "Aye." he said. He held out his bumper to the Captain, and Erik took it, taking a long drink of the ale before handing it back. "Best winds." he muttered, knowing exactly how his meeting with Christine was going to go.

Meanwhile, Christine and Raoul were sitting in the cramped cell, finally getting used to the musty smell that seemed to permeate the air. The broadside of the ship groaned as it moved along the waters, a thin sheen of dew coating the inside of the walls. Raoul looked over at Christine, who was sitting with her arms draped over her knees and her head leaned back against the ship. He could see the blood that stained her maroon shirt, glad to discover that it hadn't been hers. A smirk flickered across his face when he learned that she had dispatched two of Erik's men. Her wounds were superficial, only having a few bumps and bruises. But the cut that Erik had left on the back of her hand had been wrapped in a piece of fabric from Raoul's uniform.

Her normally beautiful and shining hair seemed to dull within just the few hours of their captivity, the silky strands constantly damp as they hung over her shoulders.

He watched as she managed to get a few moments rest. And he couldn't help the pang of guilt that stabbed through his chest, knowing that he was the one who had put her in this situation.

But her eyes snapped open at the sound of footsteps and the clashing of metal. Her movement caught Raoul's attention and he turned to see who was coming down the hatch. Both of them rose, not wanting to once again be caught unawares. He glared when he saw the Persian man. On the other hand, the Persian grinned at seeing the officer's bruised and battered features.

He reached the bars of the cell, his fingers clasping around the damp metal. A set of skeleton keys dangled in his other hand, a quiet clink filling the air as they collided. "Cap'n wants a word with you." he said, nodding to Christine.

Raoul raised his lip in a defiant snarl. "She's not going anywhere." he snapped.

Daroga raised an eyebrow before glancing down to his belt, where a cutlass hung and a pistol was shoved into his waistband. "I do believe she is." he said purposefully, his eyes narrowing at the naval captain, daring him to raise an objection. Seeing that he was obviously outgunned, Raoul grit his teeth and took a step backward, which allowed a curious Christine to take his place.

"Do I have any say in the matter?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and an attitude that Daroga didn't know what to do with.

He blinked at her, a small frown on his face, as he tried to read her. Her expression was blank save for the defiant flash in her eyes. He wasn't quite sure what to make of her. But he could see why the Captain was intrigued. It wasn't often that any of them met someone willing to oppose him. The last man to do that ended up tied to the bowsprit and left as shark bait.

She took his silence as confirmation of her assumption and she nodded once with pursed lips. "I didn't think so."

Daroga watched the officer out of the corner of his eye as he unlocked the cell door and opened it wide enough for Christine to slip through. He looked her over, eyes narrowing when he saw the blood that had soaked her clothes. "Are you injured?" he grunted. He didn't want to be the one responsible if Erik found out she had almost died before seeing him.

She looked down, eyes wide before she realized what he was talking about. He saw the flicker of a smirk cross her face before her expression returned to one of passive stoic. "No. But your two crewmates might have something to say about that. If you ever recover their bodies from the Locker, that is."

Surprise filled Daroga, and he had to fight the urge to send the back of his hand flying across her cheek. She dared have the gall to speak of his fallen crewmates in such a manner?

But honestly, he shouldn't be surprised. If she was as ruthless as Erik thought she was, then there was no doubt in Daroga's mind that she would have been the one to send them to their watery graves. He muttered something under his breath before grabbing her arm and jerking her towards the small staircase. "Up you go." he snapped. He glanced back at Raoul, who watched with a scowl. "I'll be back for you."

Nadir led Christine across the deck, his hand clamped firmly around her bicep as he dragged her along. Her keen eyes took in the scenery around her, noticing that the other crew members were still in the process of going through the crates they had taken from her previous ship. Her blood began to boil at the thought. She had lost all the people she had known and been close to. And for what? A few crates of food? Some weapons? Had Erik and his crew come on a friendlier note, it was a possibility that Raoul would have been willing to trade with the _Phantom._ But instead, the 52 crewmen of the _Triumph_ had been slaughtered.

And while she couldn't do anything but mourn the death of her companions, she could at least make sure she sent a few of the opposing crew with them.

The thoughts swirled around in her head as she was led to the Captain's cabin. She raised an eyebrow at the man beside her, guessing be was the equivalent of a first officer. "Do I _have_ to go in there?" she asked while crossing her arms. "He was bad enough to deal with earlier. I don't want to see him on his own terms."

Against his mind's consent, Daroga let out a snort of laughter. "He can be a bit...much…"

She rolled her eyes. "That's an understatement." she muttered.

"Just answer his questions and you'll be fine." Daroga honestly didn't want to see anything bad happen to the young woman. She looked like she had a lot of potential, and from the brief moments he saw of her and Erik fighting it out, she looked like a skilled woman. He would hate to see that type of talent go to waste. He hoped Erik had his head screwed on straight and knew what he was getting himself into. Banishing the thoughts, Daroga knocked on the door once before opening it and nodding at Christine to go in. When she refused to move, crossing her arms and cocking a hip, he rolled his eyes and had to push her inside.

"Glad I don't have to deal with that." he muttered before turning to head back to the brig. He had his own prisoner to deal with. And he planned on enjoying himself.

Christine threw a glare over her shoulder as the large door was closed behind her. She was in a bad enough mood already and she had no patience to deal with the man draped across a chair in front of her.

He wore an intricately designed mask that covered the right side of his face, shadowing his eyes. He looked up lazily as she was pushed inside, his keen eyes appraising her. His left arm was draped over the back of his chair while his body was in a half sitting, half lying position. His feet were propped up on the table in front of him, the leather well worn but still shining. His dark blue poet shirt was left open, exposing the hardened planes of his chest to the salty ocean air, making his body slick with a thin sheen of sweat. Candles illuminated the room with a single lantern hanging behind him, casting shadows over the darkened cabin. She simply rose an eyebrow at the small smirk he gave her.

"Christine," he said quietly, as if tasting her name on his tongue. But the way he said it sent a shiver down her spine. His voice was deep and quiet, it he spoke in such a way that would give any woman goosebumps.

She tried to hide the reaction from him but he only chuckled. And she knew he could read her like a book. "Destler," she snapped back, her voice cold and tone venomous as she spoke to him.

He cocked his head slightly, trying to decide how to approach the situation. "Now, now, love. No need for such hostility." He briefly nodded to the chair across from him. "Sit."

Seeing no other way out of the situation, Christine obliged, albeit reluctantly. She sat across from him as he took his feet from the table's surface and leaned forward.

"Have they been treating you well?"

She refrained from rolling her eyes. "We're locked in a prison cell. But most everyone seems to leave us alone, so that's a plus." she said with pursed lips. Then she gave him a pointed look. "And then there's you."

He raised an eyebrow before letting out a chuckle. "You must be hungry." he said. Erik leaned back against his chair and motioned to the full plate of food in front of her. "Have something to eat." He reached behind him and grabbed two goblets, filling them with the smooth red liquid that dripped out of the jug. He handed her a glass and she took it with mild suspicion.

"Tell me the truth, Christine. Why were you headed towards the Dracain coast? On the Devil's Sea, no less. Such a dangerous place for an inexperienced crew."

She sipped the wine he had given her after he had taken a drink, knowing that it came from the same bottle. If he wanted to lace her drink with something, he would have had to do it to himself as well. "I could say the same thing to you." she said coolly, her demeanor betraying nothing of the hatred she felt for this man. "What's a smart man like you doing in the most dangerous waters known to man?"

That gave him pause, but he continued moments later. "I don't believe that you were helping a Diplomat make a safe voyage home."

Christine arched a perfect eyebrow. "If you believed that, the you were stupider than I thought. I'm glad to see I was proven wrong."

He chuckled. "I knew that Captain wasn't telling me the truth. Why would he risk that?"

"He thought he could spare the lives of his crew."

"And look where that got him." Erik deadpanned, his eyes darkening.

Christine's eyes flashed in the candlelight. "You're in the same position as he is." she said.

"And how would you know that?"

"I sent two of your crew members to their graves myself. And don't think for a second that I won't do it again."

He pursed his lips before taking another drink of the wine. Her actions puzzled him. His eyes narrowed slightly as she looked down at the plate in front of her and then back up to him. She was obviously trying to play some sort of game. But Erik was a fast learner. "I don't doubt it. I imagine it takes a rather high level of skill for a woman to make it on a ship."

She shrugged halfheartedly, already bored with the conversation. "If you have something to say to me, Erik, then say it. I don't have all night."

He chuckled. "I beg to differ."

Her arms crossed, and the movement drew attention to the dark red splotches on her shirt. His eyes narrowed as he tried to decide whether or not it belonged to her. "Beg all you want. It doesn't mean I have to listen. Or give you what you want."

"What's the real reason you were out in the middle of this? I'm only out here for the coin, and it took a lot of convincing even for that."

She paused. "So you're getting paid to be out here?"

"Obviously. Why else would I risk the lives of my crew? My friends?"

"For the thrill of it?"

He looked her over as she stared him down, obviously not willing to back down. She was perceptive, he had to give her that.

"Fair enough. But that still didn't answer my question."

Once again, she simply shrugged. "Same reason you are." Christine glanced down at the plate in front of her, trying to decide whether or not it was for to eat. Erik hadn't touched his plate, and she was beginning to wonder.

He narrowed his eyes and rose from his seat. Her eyes trailed up his body as he walked around the table before leaning against the edge beside her. "What's your business here, Christine?"

"We're all employed by someone, right?" she countered. Her goblet seemed to rise of its own accord and she downed the rest of the wine. "Besides, I asked first."

He growled quietly, knowing he wasn't getting where he wanted to be. "We all have secrets, love."

A smirk toyed with the corner of her mouth. "And some go deeper than others."

The muscles in his eye twitched ever so slightly, that being the only outward sign of frustration. She was surprised that he even showed her that much. She took him as the strong and silent type, never willing to express any emotion to anyone. And that included his frustration. But he was also renowned for his nasty temper. But, when provoked, Christine had the rage to rival Calypso. And she was not to be trifled with.

Turning her attention away from the man that was uncomfortably close to him, she grabbed a fork and stabbed the prongs through one of the barely cooked vegetables. She tried to ignore the soft scent of spice and wind that surrounded her as he leaned over her smaller frame.

She knew he was trying to intimidate her, and she had to admit, the stories that she had heard of Erik Destler were beginning to haunt her memories. And the feeling of his blue eyes boring into her as she sat there was rather unsettling. He leaned down and she could feel his breath tickling her ear as he spoke. It almost sent another shiver down her spine.

"One way or another, Christine, you will give me what I want."

She turned her head slightly, just enough to catch his intense gaze out of the corner of her eye. They were close enough that his lips had brushed her flesh as she turned, and she couldn't help the sparks that jumped across her skin, electrofied simply by the gentle skim of his lips.

"And what would that be?" she asked quietly, her voice low and sultry. Her words contained a double meaning and had the exact affect she hoped it would. She saw his eyes flicker down to her lips and she angled her head more.

With hooded eyes and every ounce of self control he had, he leaned away from her just slightly. But it was enough to put a distance between them that would clear his head. "You know exactly what I want."

She smirked and turned away from him, promptly standing. He watched with a curious suspicion as she faced him, taking a step forward and making him lean farther against the table, the edge of it digging into his back. That infuriating smirk she wore still adorned her lips as she leaned her weight around him and standing on her tiptoes before leaning forward. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply as she leaned towards his ear.

" _And you're never going to get it._ " she whispered, catching the bottom of his ear lobe between her teeth as she pulled back.

And without another word, Christine turned on her heel, walking away from him. His eyes watched the sway of her hips as she stalked out the door of his cabin and looking to her right, where she saw Gustav waiting to take her back to the cell she had previously occupied.

Erik couldn't explain his pounding pulse, the blood rushing in his ears, or the way his body so eagerly responded to hers.

He chalked it up to the frustration of the situation. He had gotten absolutely nothing from her, but realized that he had given her everything she wanted. He growled and turned, throwing the goblet she had been drinking from at the wall. It shattered quickly, shards raining down over the floor. One way or another, he would get what he wanted. Even if he had to pry it from her pretty little lips.


	5. Chapter 5

**Pirates** **Lullaby- Pat Razket**

* * *

Chains clanked against each other as Raoul was tossed about in his cell. His hands had been bound and hooked over one of the chains hanging from the wood boards above him, making him a stationary target for Daroga. It made his job a lot easier. But as he continued with his interrogation, Raoul was sent swinging in different directions, hardly able to keep his balance under the barrage of attacks from the pirate. His legs had slumped, allowing his wrists to take most of his weight to hold him in a somewhat upright position.

The Persian had been right in his predictions. Within moments, the Naval Captain began to sing like a canary. Though he wasn't sure how much of the information was accurate or the truth, Daroga was glad he could get even that out of him.

Daroga had rolled up the sleeves of his baggy shirt to his elbows, the interrogation giving him more of a workout than he thought it would. Raoul paused in his swaying long enough to spit out a stream of blood and glare over at his tormentor. Daroga had been careful not to aim for any vital organs, only the bones he knew he could break without too much damage to the victim.

Raoul for his part, had taken the situation rather well. He had told the man what he thought he wanted to hear, which turned out to be a bad idea. It was like the pirate could read his mind, knowing that what he was being told wasn't the truth. But still, Raoul pressed on. He had to make the man believe that he was speaking nothing but truth. It was hard when he didn't really believe it himself.

But, after all, he was just following orders.

He and his crew had been trained for situations exactly like this one, conditioned to tolerate the pain and never give away any information other than what they were told. And they were told so many lies themselves, it was hard to keep straight what their actual mission was from the cover story that they had been provided with.

Letting his body go limp, the Captain enjoyed the brief respite from the constant barrage of blows. He wasn't sure how much more his body could tolerate. He knew he had at least two broken ribs if not more. The bruising on his sides told that story well. He also had a split lip and a blackened eye, and he could feel the swelling starting to grow on his cheek. Even with the conditioning he had endured over the years, he had to admit that the pirate knew how to inflict the most pain while causing the least possible damage.

Daroga saw Raoul's body relax and he cracked his knuckles. He knew the man wouldn't be able to hold out much longer, and he was just getting started. But as he began to wind up for another blow, a voice stopped him.

"They're bringing the girl back."

Growling, Daroga nodded. He took a knife from the sheath at his belt before stalking towards the officer and cutting the ropes that held him up. Taking the bucket of water that the other crewman handed him, Daroga threw it on Raoul, washing away the still slick blood on his face and slightly numbing the pain that coursed through his body. Once he had done that, he tossed a ragged towel at the man along with his shirt. He might be doing his job, but he knew better than to do it in front of a woman, and especially one that had intrigued his friend.

"We're done." he grunted, stalking out of the cell as Raoul began to slowly clean himself up, wiping the water from his face and attempting to dry slightly before putting his shirt back on.

Moments after, Daroga looked over to see the woman descending the ladder, a triumphant but inconspicuous smirk on her face. He raised an eyebrow, briefly wondering what had happened between her and the Captain. But shaking it off, he reopened the cell door and she stepped inside, not sparing him a glance. But she frowned when her eyes fell on Raoul, who was still sitting on the floor, leaning against the bulkhead. She immediately noticed the already forming and quite large bruise on his cheek. It didn't take long for her to see the rest of the bruises and figure out what happened.

She whirled around to face the Persian, stalking towards him with her fists clenched at her sides.

"What did you do to him?!" she demanded, crossing her arms and glaring at him defiantly.

Surprised by her immediate reaction, Daroga was still standing with the cell door in his hand, not having closed it yet. "Questioning the prisoner?" he said, phrasing it more as a question as she stared at him. Obviously, that wasn't a good enough answer as she exploded.

"You call _that_ questioning?!" she snapped, gesturing angrily to her friend. Raoul was the closest thing she had to family anymore. He was her best friend. The two always looked out for each other, and the thought that she failed made her stomach churn.

Daroga quickly overcame the shock of her outburst and he rolled his eyes. "Yes. Besides, I don't answer to you."

Her scowl deepened. "You could have killed him." she snarled. "And I don't really think that _Erik_ would be happy to hear that his first mate endangered the life of a valued hostage."

He laughed at her attempt to scare him. "And exactly what _value_ do the two of you hold? Last I checked, he was a simple Naval Captain. And for all we know, you're his comfort woman."

The dismissive tone in which he spoke to her made her blood boil. She was not used to being talked down to, and it was something that she already despised. "Last I checked, we were valuable to your Captain. He doesn't seem to be one who would take treason lightly."

He laughed again, almost doubling over. "Treason?" he asked between the bouts of laughter. "My dear, I would hardly call following orders _treason_."

She crossed her arms and cocked a hip to the side, her posture showing every ounce of attitude that she wanted to convey. "Hey asked you to question him, not endanger his life."

Daroga raised an eyebrow. "Tell me what looks endangered." he said, daring her to contradict him. He was beginning to see what the Captain saw in this woman. She was defiant and determined, willing to go toe to toe with the most dangerous men across the seven seas just to prove a point.

"I'm fairly sure a punctured lung would go a long way towards a person's death."

For the briefest of moments, panic flashed across his features. He noticed the way Raoul was favoring his right side, the way his face contorted in pain with even the smallest breath that he took. Obviously, Daroga knew he had at least fractured a couple ribs, but he never thought the damage could be as bad as what Christine was telling him it was. If by some chance she was right, Erik would have his head.

He lowered his gaze slightly, and Christine's scowl softened slightly. "I need bandages, whiskey, and a dagger."

He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off.

"Look, I won't say anything to Erik. Just get me what I need and I'll make sure all three of us stay out of trouble." she said quietly, looking back to her companion before refocusing on the pirate in front of her.

With a quiet sigh, he nodded. "I'll be back." he said softly.

Christine nodded and turned on her heel, stalking towards Raoul. She dropped to her knees in front of him and he smiled up at her. "Am I that bad, doc?" he asked before he coughed.

Ignoring his question, she carefully move his torn shirt out of the way to look at the damage the Persian had caused. She mumbled under her breath, and Raoul chuckled at the unladylike curses that fell from her lips. Her keen eyes took in the bruises, and she looked up at him.

"You're fine, you big whiner." she said with a crooked smile. "Quit looking so pathetic."

He chuckled. "I knew I kept you around for a reason." he said.

She glanced over her shoulder, looking for the guard that seemed to be rooted to the spot outside their small cell. She shushed her companion when she spotted him hiding in the shadows near a stack of supply crates. "Quiet. He'll hear you."

Raoul rolled his eyes before looking for the man himself.

Christine continued her ministrations before cursing again. With a grunt from Raoul, she managed to strip off his shirt. She glanced up and saw the smirk on his face. "You didn't have to go through all that just to undress me." he muttered.

She scoffed and turned her attention to the small cuts that Daroga had inflicted. "This looks like the worst of it." she muttered. "You're lucky you scraped by without worse."

He shrugged, accepting the situation for what it was. "I've been through worse. You know that."

She rolled her eyes. "Quiet. You're supposed to be in excruciating pain." Hoping that would keep him quiet for the time being, save for a few grunts and moans, she went about trying to clean the other wounds as best she could.

A few moments later, she heard approaching footsteps and turned enough to see Daroga once again approaching her, this time with what she had asked for. He unlocked the cell and stepped inside, but not before sending the guard away.

He handed her everything. "What are you doing?" he asked, watching as she quickly spread the bandages out on a crate beside her and dumping a generous amount of the amber liquid onto the blade she had been given.

"Getting the air out of his chest." she muttered, throwing a look to her companion. "You might want to look away." she told the Persian. Setting the items down, she quickly undid the belt at her waist, the worn leather slipping easily into her grasp. She folded it in half and shoved it towards Raoul and he opened his mouth.

Realizing what she was about to do, Daroga shuddered and turned his back to her. Smirking, She grabbed the dagger. "This is going to hurt…"

Raoul winked at her as she feigned slowly digging the knife into his chest. Clenching his teeth around the leather, he let out a scream. Working quickly, she set the knife on his abdomen and he winced at the cold steel on his skin. She unwound the bandage around her still oozing hand and clenched her own teeth as she grabbed the blade once again and this time slid it across her own skin. It took everything she had not to let out a yelp of pain as the sharp blade bit into her flesh.

She made sure she had drawn enough blood to coat about half the blade and to smear it across his chest. If she wanted it to be convincing, she had to make it look like a lot of pain and a lot of work. Once she was sure she had done her job, she quickly rewrapped her hand and put a bandage over Raoul's chest.

"Get over here and help me." she said over her shoulder, calling the pirate over to her. He reluctantly did as he was asked. Daroga was a man forged by the sea. He had seen and inflicted his own share of pain and blood. But he was never fond of watching a doctor work. The pure brutality of the practice made him shudder, and she had proved his point. Making sure the wound she had caused was already bandaged, he moved a little quicker.

Christine gave him quick instructions on what to do, as she was sure she wouldn't be able to get the wrapping tight enough to hold his ribs in place. But with the help of the pirate, she was able to finish quickly.

The whole ordeal took less than ten minutes, but to Nadir, it felt as if it had been hours. He really hoped she would keep up her end of the deal. He would have to keep a closer eye on her from here on out.

"Maybe the Cap'n was smart to keep you alive." he muttered, watching the way her hands worked quickly and methodically.

She threw a smirk in his direction but elected to ignore the comment. Once she had finished with Raoul, he let out a quivering sigh and his eyelids drooped shut. "He'll be out for a while, now. To be honest, I'm surprised he didn't pass out earlier." she said, putting a slight edge to her tone.

Daroga cleared his throat and she looked over to him. "Nice job." he muttered. "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have you around after all."

She laughed. "Well, if you think I'm going to be patching up your crew all the time, you're sadly mistaken. You keep my secret, and I'll keep yours."

His anger flared momentarily before he groaned internally. Now she had something to hold over his head. But, then again, if he went and told Erik what had happened, he was sure his old friend wouldn't hold it against him. After all, he had only been following the Captain's orders. And then he could kill two birds with one stone. Afterall, the longer someone hid something from Erik, the worse the consequences were going to be. And Daroga was quite fond of all of his limbs. He didn't want to be losing either arm any time soon.

He let a smirk flicker across his face briefly before standing. "Keep the whiskey. You'll need it. Hand over the blade."

She frowned. "That wasn't a one time fix," she said, gesturing to the unconscious form in front of her. "If you want to come down here every couple hours and watch me poke another hole in his chest, feel free. Otherwise you might want to leave it here."

Daroga gave her a skeptical look. He wasn't stupid. He knew better than to leave her with a weapon. He grunted and held out his hand, waiting for her to hand it over. The thought of having to watch her do that every couple hours sent a shudder down his spine, but he knew it would be better if he kept an eye on her when she had the blade in her hands.

She rolled her eyes but handed it over.

He tipped his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips. His fingers wrapped around the leather bound hilt and he tucked the dagger back into his belt, making sure to wipe the blood from the blade before he did. As he walked back to the hatch, he blew out the lantern that was illuminating the small space, leaving them in darkness.

"Nighty-night." he chuckled.

Christine shuddered at the way his deep voice echoed over the small hold. She smacked Raoul. "Get up. He's gone."

* * *

Erik shouted out an order, barely heard over the pounding of the rain. The _Phantom_ crested another large wave, her crew holding on for dear life as they tried to keep the ship from capsizing. Erik's shirt was glued to his skin as he began climbing the shrouds, trying to release the gaff of the mainsail. It had gotten tangled in the rigging and was causing more damage than it was doing good.

Daroga grabbed ahold of Gustav, who was slipping down the deck with a yelp. His fingers clasped tightly around the young man's wrist. The Persian ground his teeth as the weight of the boy jerked his shoulder. His knuckles were white as he hauled the boy back to the taffrail, his grip beginning to slip as the rain continued to pound down.

His eyes flashed with the next lightning strike, and he cursed when he saw the tails flipping in the sea.

"Cap'n!" he shouted, struggling to keep his balance as he walked towards the mast. Erik had managed to cut the gaff loose and was trying to get himself untangled from the shrouds as he made his way back down.

"The Songs are starting!" Daroga shouted, immediately earning the attention of his captain. Eric looked out across the sea, watching as the scaly tails and fins surface and submerge again. Daroga's voice boomed out across the ship, heard even despite the rain and thunder.

" _Bu hu hu they are coming for you_

 _I can see three pirates on the ocean_

 _Bu hu hu they are coming for you_

 _I can see three pirates on the ocean_

 _The first one lost his eye_

 _The second lost his sense_

 _The third one will show no emotion."_

One by one, the crew all joined in as the dark and melodic tune of the Choir filled the air.

" _Leave this place while the day is bright,_

 _They leave no swags as they set their sail._

 _No time to mourn so save your tears,_

 _For the dead men leave no tale."_

Erik grit his teeth as he grabbed hold of a rope, sliding the rest of the way down to the deck. The rope burned his skin and he was sure his palms would be raw by the time he reached the deck. His feet hit the planking with a loud thud, the sound loud enough to rival that of thunder.

" _Yo ho ho, we are coming for you._

 _We are pirates forged in the ocean._

 _Yo ho ho, we are coming for you._

 _There's no place to hide for you will die tonight."_

Ignoring the searing pain in his hands, he joined his crew in song, fighting the Choir that surrounded them on all sides.

" _If you have rum they quench their thirst_

 _And leave no Quarter; that's what I'm told._

 _I hear the shanty from across the sea,_

 _I hear the cannons close, me lad._

 _So flee me heartie there's no place to be_

 _And say goodbye to ye mum and dad."_

Erik's eyes narrowed as he saw the faces of the Sirens start emerging from the murky deaths. He scowled as he watched their beauty flicker, their gruesome nature beginning to take over. His eyes settled on one who was clawing the hull of the ship, her face shifting from beauty, to horror, and back again...

" _Yo ho ho, we are coming for you._

 _We are pirates forged in the ocean._

 _Yo ho ho, we are coming for you._

 _There's no place to hide for you will die tonight."_

It seemed like it was getting easier and easier for them to drive away the Choirs. A loud screech filled the air once again as the vile creatures disappeared back to the depths where they belonged.

Erik let out a relieved breath as the storm began to subside. He started to rake a hand through his hair but hissed in pain as the raw flesh came in contact with the salt water that soaked him to the bone.

Daroga approached him, clapping his hand on the Captain's shoulder. "I don't know about you, but I'm gettin' tired of that." he growled, nodding to the sea.

Erik nodded. "Aye." he muttered.

Daroga frowned at his friend before noticing his hands. "Aye, Cap'n. That doesn't look so good."

Erik rolled his eyes. "You think?" he asked sarcastically.

Daroga chuckled before thinking. Was he really ready to open that box? Shrugging it off, he spoke up. "The woman knows medicine." he said. "She cleaned up the Captain when I was done with him. I'm sure she could be persuaded to make sure your hands are taken care of."

Erik raised an eyebrow. "And you just _now_ thought I should know about this?"

He chuckled. "I figured it would come in handy eventually." he replied, teasing his friend. "What do you think?"

After a moment, the Captain nodded. "Bring her to me."

Daroga smirked. "Aye." He turned and walked away, leaving Erik to assess the damage to the ship. It took him about ten minutes to make sure everyone and everything was accounted for. He was rather upset to find that he would have to replace a large section of the taffrail. He muttered to himself as he stalked back to his cabin, stripping off his shirt as he did. He had to relight the lanterns to make sure he had enough light to see.

He hissed once again as his palms came in contact with the ocean's salt. Christine better know what she's doing.

There was a knock on the door a few moments later. "What?" he growled, running a towel over his black hair.

The door creaked open to reveal Daroga holding Christine by the arm. "Cap'n." he said with a nod of his head. He motioned for Christine to go inside, and she reluctantly did so, her eyes narrowed at Erik's shirtless form.

As much as she hated the man, she could appreciate how the dim light accentuated his toned muscles, water still sliding down the hardened planes of his chest. Then she noticed the blood dripping from his hands.

She crossed her arms. "What do you want?" she asked, her eyes hardening as her gaze fell on the black mask that obscured half his face.

He chuckled. "Nice to see the storm hasn't dampened your spirits." he muttered, more to himself than to her. After a moment, he fully faced her. "Daroga tells me you know medicine."

She scowled. "That lying dog." she snarled.

His eyes flashed in anger. "Watch your tone." he snapped. "Do you practice or not?"

She sighed. There was no point in fighting it. "Aye."

He held out his hands. "Clean and bandage them."

Christine narrowed her eyes. "And why would I do that?" she challenged.

She flinched at the dark and dangerous glint that his eyes held. He stalked towards her and grabbed her wrist, jerking her towards him and ignoring the pain in his hand. "You'll do as I say." he said quietly. She had stumbled at the strength he had used to jerk her, and she had caught herself on his chest. When he spoke, she could feel his voice reverberating in his chest. The deep tone sent a shiver through her.

"And what if I don't?" she asked, daring to push him farther. She looked up at him from under her long eyelashes.

He leaned forward, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke. "I'll send you to dance with Jack."

She couldn't help the warmth that flooded her stomach at his touch. His lips sent sparks dancing across her skin. But the threatening tone in his voice was made all the more apparent as she could feel his calm demeanor. She believed him.

Sighing, she nodded slightly.

"Good girl." he smirked, pulling away. He noticed that Daroga had already brought some bandages and a bottle of whiskey, though he didn't remember seeing his first mate with them.

She quickly got to work, her fingers moving skillfully as she dumped a bit of the whiskey on his skin to clean the wound before starting to bandage his hands. The process was all a blur to Erik, she was done before he realized it.

"If that's all, I'll be going now." Christine said, turning on her heel and heading for the door.

"Not so fast." Erik said, once again catching her wrist in his hand. He pulled her back to him, this time a little gentler. She was pressed up against his chest with his arm around her waist before she knew what happened. He surprised himself with his boldness, not feeling completly in control of his own actions. He stared down at her with an unreadable expression, but his eyes said it all.

"What do you want?" she managed to choke out, internally scolding herself for the way her voice cracked. The man in front of her had put more fear in her than any man she had ever met before. And if she was being completely honest, she found it attractive. Erik felt as though he could _hear_ her thoughts, and it boosted his confidence even more.

His eyes, full of fire, searched her face. "You know what I want." he said, his voice low and husky.

The corner of her mouth quirked up. "And you're never going to get it." she whispered.

Quicker than she thought possible, his lips crushed hers. She put her hands on his chest and tried to push him away, but he held her in place. Christine knew it was wrong. She didn't even know the man. But the way his fingers dug into her hips and the way his lips immediately claimed dominance sent her mind reeling. She couldn't think straight. So instead of trying to fight it, she gave in to the little voice in the back of her mind telling her that this is what she wanted. Again Erik felt the strange sensation that he could sense her thoughts.

Her fingers ran across his well defined chest, her touch setting his skin on fire. He tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss and she groaned when she felt his teeth on her lip.

Erik's hands began tugging at the waistband of her breeches, trying to get her shirt free. His fingers finally found an exposed strip of her waist, and she almost gasped at the sensation his touch caused.

"Erik," she said quietly, her lips pressing against his jaw.

His lips left hers to trail down her neck, leaving a trail of hot, searing kisses in his wake. "You're so beautiful." he muttered, nipping at the skin between her neck and shoulder.

"Erik," she muttered.

He hummed in response, his hands exploring her back.

"Erik." Her voice sounded different.

The hand she had on his shoulder firmly pushed him back and she stared deep in his eyes. A dazed expression was on his face and she smirked up at him.

"You think I would ever want _you_?" she asked, disgust filling her tone as she shoved him away from her. "You're nothing but a monster and a murderer." She reached out and snatched the mask away from his face, revealing the marred skin underneath. He gaped at her while she sneered and crossed her arms.

"You could never be worthy of me." she snarled, lashing out.

He ducked beneath her hand, surprise and loathing filling him.

"Erik!" she shouted. Her lips were moving but the voice was not her own.

This time when she struck, he didn't have a chance to duck. The slap cut across his face like a whip, sending his head flying to the side.

"ERIK!"

He blinked several times, his vision coming back into focus. He was not in his cabin. He was on the deck. The rain was still pounding and the sirens were still screaming.

Daroga was standing in front of him, shaking his shoulders and shouting his name. Erik's mind was still in a fog as he stared back at his friend, trying to figure out exactly what was going on.

A loud screech of pain filled the air and Erik could see blood filled water around a Siren, her skin pale and her eyes black. Blood poured from the hole Nadir's bullet had left in her arm. It dove beneath the surface, taking the rest of the Choir with it.

Erik focused back on Daroga, who was still in front of him, concern filling his face. "Are you okay, Erik?" he asked, gaining the attention of his friend.

Erik groaned, a pounding taking over his head. "Sink me." he muttered, bringing a hand up to his forehead.

"You looked at one." Daroga said, still not releasing Erik. "I was sure we lost ya."

Erik shook his head and immediately regretted the decision as it only served to make the pain worse. "I'm fine." he grumbled. Though he knew he wasn't. What in the name of Calypso just happened?

"You don't look fine." Nadir said, the concern becoming more evident. "You did a number on your hands. Look, the woman, Christine, she practices medicine. I'm sure I could convince her to take a look-"

"NO!" Erik roared, making Daroga jump.

"Okay, okay, calm down." Nadir said, holding his hands up in surrender. Whatever had happened to the Captain while he was in that trance had definitely messed with his head.

"I'll bandage them myself." Erik said, this time softer. "I have to find something." And without another word, he turned on his heel and stalked towards his Cabin, leaving an overly confused Daroga behind.

The Persian shook his head. Whatever had happened, he hoped Erik would get his head straight soon. They still had a job to do.

"Trevan!" he shouted. "Give me a hand with the ballast. The ship's off balance and I don't want anything _else_ to go wrong."

* * *

 **Reviews welcome please**


	6. Chapter 6

Erik sighed and dragged a hand down his face. He was exhausted and his mind kept playing tricks on him. He would look up from his books, eyes heavy with sleep, and he would see her standing in the doorway, her hair blowing behind her and her eyes electrified as she stared at him. Then he would blink and the image would be gone. He would tell himself that he just needed a good night's sleep, chalk it up to his lack of rest. But if he was being honest, that Siren was still messing with his head.

Try as he might, he couldn't get the image of her, breathless and full of desire, out of his mind. His subconscious was trying to tell him something, trying to send him a message, but he refused to listen.

Every single text he could find on Sirens said that they were able to show a man what he desired the most. What his darkest secret was, his guilty passion. He tried to deny it, tried to bury his thoughts in his work, but he couldn't hide it forever. He couldn't keep denying the attraction he had for the woman who had stolen his interest.

She was a mystery, a puzzle that needed solving. And Jones be cursed if Erik couldn't solve it. His mind kept wandering back to the moment they had met, to the meeting they had in his cabin, and to the defiant and rebellious gleam in her eyes whenever she spoke to him.

There was an undeniable fire that raged within her, and Erik was desperate to know what fueled the flames. Daroga had told him that the Naval Captain, Raoul, his name was, hadn't given away any important information. If anything, he kept babbling nonsense to keep from telling the Persian anything of value. Erik pursed his lips. He could appreciate the sentiment. And he thought it was a fairly good strategy. Perhaps he would take the next interrogation.

Erik growled and ran a crudely bandaged hand through his hair. Daroga was probably right. If the woman knew anything at all about medicine, it probably would've been better for her to properly clean and bandage his raw palms. But the vision he experienced had shaken him up more than he would like to admit. And for the time being, he was going to keep as much distance between the two of them as he could.

He would quietly watch her from afar and learn as much as he could. He made it his personal mission to figure out the mystery surrounding Christine. He rolled his eyes at himself, realizing he should probably find out her last name before he did anything too drastic.

He stood up with a sigh, taking to pacing instead of bouncing his leg up and down. He needed to do something to keep himself active, otherwise Erik knew he would drive himself insane. And he figured if he didn't have a new topic to keep his mind occupied, he would end up doing that _anyway_.

But Erik was a stubborn man, and God forbid he give up on something he was determined to do. The thought made him chuckle quietly. There had many a scheme that Erik had come up with as a young lad, and many of which Daroga had tried to talk him out of. But Erik was pigheaded and refused to back down from any challenge.

And he realized that's how he was viewing this Woman, this Christine. As a challenge. Her every word to him so far had been nothing but disrespect and defiance. She was begging for a fight, and he felt obligated to give her one.

But come to think of it, she was the fiercest opponent he had come up against in a long time. She was an almost unstoppable force, manipulating her way through whatever situation she found herself in. Erik wasn't a complete idiot. He knew what she was doing that night in his cabin. She had twisted his words, turning them back around on him. She was manipulating his…interest…in her, using that to her advantage. She was smart and observant, qualities he always found attractive in a woman.

But Christine? She was something completely different, an animal that he had never dealt with before. At first, her actions had puzzled him. But the more he thought about it, the more he came to understand. Erik had plenty of secrets of his own, but Christine was hiding a legion of them. He was more than curious to find out just exactly what those secrets were.

And that brought about another question.

How did she come to be on that ship?

As he combed through his memories and experiences, he recognized the traits of Guild training. Their elite warriors were some of the fiercest in the Kingdom. She fought with some of the oldest but most useful tricks in the books. She was quick on her feet, and from what Daroga told him, she knew enough about medicine to keep herself and others alive.

But as far as he knew, women were never trained warriors. They obviously had their uses, such as infiltration and messengers. But this was the first he had heard of a trained fighter.

And he would be lying if he said that didn't appeal to him.

Her strong and independent nature were something to be envied. Her will was enough to rival his own, and he realized if he kept going toe to toe with her like this, it would get him nowhere. If she was determined to keep her mouth shut, he had a feeling she would stick to that no matter what. Much as he loathed the idea, he would probably have to play nice. For now, at least. But he would need something to keep her in his sights, something that he could use to keep an eye on her all the time.

He pursed his lips as he thought it over. Daroga was probably right. Even though Erik had a feeling he could use them for some extra coin, they would need to pull their weight on the ship. Erik wasn't one to let his crew get away with freeloading, so why should hostages be any different?

A wicked smile crossed his face as he thought about it more. He would make them work for every bite of food, for every drop of water. If they were taking up space on his ship, they darn well better be working for it. And if they slacked off? Well, he would burn that bridge when he came to it. A good threatening would probably do the trick. The thought amused him and he moved towards the water-proofed chest in the corner near the small bed.

He stripped off the still wet shirt, the material stubbornly clinging to his skin. The muscles rippled across his chest as he stretched, a satisfied grunt coming from him. His aching and battered body hardly had time to rest before he had to turn around and do something else. He heard a pop in his back and winced, knowing the muscles would be nothing but knots later.

He dug through the chest, sighing as he bent over the old object. He had to dig to find his favorite shirt, a dark red silk poet shirt. He also grabbed the ornate mask from the shelf beside the desk and redressed, tucking the slinky material into the waistband of his black breeches. He glanced at his appearance in the mirror, smirking at himself before turning and walking out towards the deck, the door quietly creaking shut behind him.

He found Daroga leaning against the taffrail, relaxed as he looked out across the water. The sea was still temperamental after the raging storm, the waves still churning angrily. The _Phantom_ rocked over the white caps, her deck groaning under the feet of the two men.

"Quite the sight, isn't it?"

Daroga started momentarily, not expecting the sudden voice behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, rolling his eyes when he saw Erik. His friend had always been a quiet one, able to sneak up on anything or anyone whenever he desired. "Aye." Daroga grunted. When his friend appeared at his side, Daroga raised an eyebrow and looked him over. "What's the occasion?"

Erik shrugged, leaning next to Nadir. "Can't I even _dress_ without you questioning me?"

Nadir rolled his eyes again. "Apparently not. You're quite...particular...about your clothes."

The Captain raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

Daroga chuckled. "Nothing, boss." he muttered.

Erik was still skeptical, but he decided not to press the matter any farther. "I think you were right." he said eventually.

Daroga didn't even spare him a glance this time, instead reaching inside his coat to pull out a flask and take a swig before handing it to his friend. "Oh?"

Erik nodded before taking his own drink. The alcohol raced down his throat, burning as it went. But he found it refreshing. The momentary pain gave him something new to focus on. "They need to earn their keep."

The man beside him raised an eyebrow. "Their...their keep?"

The Captain snorted. "Or lives. However you prefer to phrase it."

That got a small chuckle out of Daroga. "That's more like it."

"If we're going to be... _sharing_... our resources with them, then they need to work for it." Erik said, thinking it over in his mind. Oh how he would love to give them the most gruelling jobs he could think of.

Daroga raised an eyebrow. "You want to put them to work?"

Erik snorted. "Obviously."

"Well...what do you want them to do? Gustav can do everything in an hour. What else is there to do?"

 _Well, sink me._ Erik thought. Maybe he didn't think it through as well as he thought he did. Unless he wanted to promote Gustav to crewman, but he almost laughed at the thought. They boy did good work, and Erik had to admit that he was fond of the lad. If he was being honest (a thing he rarely was), he was breaking the code just by having him on board. The boy was only sixteen, and if Colath knew, Erik was sure he would be skinned alive.

"What did we take in the way of food?" he asked, an idea suddenly hitting him. He knew it would make their already strained relationship even worse, but he thought having Christine in the Galley with Cook would be a good idea. He would save the more gruelling work for Raoul.

Daroga frowned momentarily. "Some salted meats, some eggs and vegetables, and I think there were a couple live chickens."

Erik blinked in surprise. He hadn't heard about the chickens. He should probably check on that. They would make for a good food source. And at this point, he wasn't going to complain about the type of food they had. He hummed in response, beginning to worry his bottom lip.

He threw back the silver flask again, taking a deep breath as the liquor once again burned his throat. He handed it back to Daroga without another word and turned on his heel, headed for the brig. Daroga quietly shook his head with a small smirk, knowing what his long time friend was planning.

Erik stalked through the ship, ducking under spare rigging as he went, muttering to himself. First thing on his list was to get the rest of the ship in tip top shape. The deck looked amazing, and he made a mental note to commend Gustav for that. He would make it Raoul's job to make sure that everything below the main deck was clean and organized. If there was one thing Erik hated, it was having his ship be in disorder. But he would remedy it soon enough.

He reached the brig in a few moments, finding the guard sleeping. Erik rolled his eyes as he glanced to the cell. The dim light from the single lantern cast shadows through the small room, making it seem more claustrophobic than it already was. Both prisoners were fast asleep, and his keen eyes didn't miss the fact that Christine slept with her face buried in the officer's chest and his arm was wrapped protectively around her shoulders. He felt a frown beginning to form on his features before his attention was diverted.

He also noticed that his shirt was open, revealing tightly wound bandages around his abdomen with red seeping through. He raised an eyebrow, wondering what damage Daroga had done. Shaking it off, he nudged the guard with his foot. The man, James, bolted awake, his eyes wildly scanning the room. A flicker of fear shone in his eyes when he saw Erik, but Erik simply raised an eyebrow.

Turning his attention back to the prisoners, he stalked towards the cell, grabbing a small metal pipe as he did. He banged it against the bars, making both of them jolt awake. He noticed Raoul flinch in pain and Christine's attention was immediately on him. Erik's lips raised in a half snarl. When he wanted the attention on him, he got it. He made a point. And he wasn't used to someone blatantly ignoring his presence.

When she was sure he wasn't hurt any more than he was to begin with, she turned a scowl on Erik. "What?" she snapped, crossing her arms.

He was loathe to see that she hadn't even stood up. She was kneeling beside the officer, defiance dripping from her every move.

He growled quietly. "From now on, you'll both have to work to earn your keep."

Christine raised an eyebrow. "Our keep?" she repeated. " _Our keep?"_ He sighed as she stood, ready for another fight to break out. " _You're_ the one who decided to drag us on board!" she shouted.

He noticed Raoul stand and make a move to try and calm her down, but she held a hand out to him, stopping him in his tracks. Erik raised an eyebrow at the apparent power she held over him.

Erik crossed his arms, not in the mood to play her games. "Either you work, or I kill you both here and now. And trust me when I say, your deaths will _not_ be pleasant."

She let out a growl to rival his own. "You wouldn't."

He raised an eyebrow. " _Try me, sweetheart._ "

Stubborn as she was, she refused to back down.

"Fine."

Erik took the keys from the guard and stalked to the cell, swinging the door open after it had been unlocked. He moved too fast for the action to be avoided, and within seconds, he had Raoul by the arm and was dragging him out. He ignored the shouts from Christine as he hauled the other man to the main deck. She was running after them, yelling curses and profanities at the pirate all the way, trying to get him to let her friend go.

Her yelling roused just about everyone, and they emerged from the cabin to see what all the noise was about. They all chuckled when they saw Erik leaning over the taffrail, holding onto Raoul by the collar. It was a sight they didn't see all that often, but one that they found humor in when it did happen. Raoul, weak from blood loss and dehydration, tried to fight back, but it was no use.

Christine smacked and tugged on Erik's arm as she yelled, "Let him go!"

Erik turned a wicked grin on her, his eyes alight with mischief. "Your wish is my command." he said quietly. He relinquished his grip on Raoul's shirt, and the officer screamed as he dropped. He dropped for only a couple seconds before he caught the taffrail with his arms, holding on for dear life. Christine yelped and made a move to help him, but was jerked backwards by Daroga.

"You sick bastard!" she yelled, struggling against the tight grip of the Persian.

Erik pursed his lips and cocked his head slightly to the side. "Want to run that by me again, love?" he asked as he moved towards Raoul.

Tears streaming down her face, she finally surrendered. "Okay! Okay, you win!" she shouted, going limp in Daroga's arms. "We'll do whatever you want, just help him up!"

Erik looked her over, thinking for a few moments. Raoul, meanwhile, was trying to drag himself back onto the deck. "Fine." Erik said after a moment. He grabbed Raoul by the scruff of his shirt and hauled him back, dropping him unceremoniously onto the wooden planks.

He started to walk away, but paused beside Christine. She was now once again trying to get away from Daroga, but she stopped when Erik was beside her.

"Try something like that again, and he dies." he whispered in her ear. His breath sent a few strands of her hair floating away, and the dark tone he spoke in sent a shiver down her spine. "Understand?"

She nodded wordlessly, her eyes fixated on her best friend.

Erik continued walking, calling over his shoulder. "Take them back to the brig."

Another round of cursing followed him, and he felt a smirk take over. The words she hurled at him were hardly proper for a woman, but he was beginning to discover that she was in no way _proper_.

He sighed as he dropped into the chair in his cabin, dragging a hand down his face. She was going to be a lot more work than he had anticipated. And he had to remind himself why he was out here in the first place.

"The coin," he muttered, glaring at the wall. "And Lafayette."

* * *

 _Erik sat across the table from Colath, his eyes scanning the map that he had been provided with. He still wasn't fond of the idea of sailing across the Devil's Sea. Even if it was for an old friend and ally. He was less than enthusiastic about the whole ordeal, and he just wanted to get it over with._

" _How long do we have?" he asked, looking up to his old mentor._

 _Colath pursed his lips. "Not long. If we're right about this, the Astonians won't be far behind._

 _Erik sighed. "How many should I expect?"_

 _The older man shrugged. "Anywhere from two to five ships. More if they know how important it is."_

 _Great. Just great. "That makes it better." Erik said sarcastically, his mood darkening again. "Lafayette is trying to rebuild the Armada. You're on your own until he can scramble enough men."_

 _Erik worried his bottom lip as he thought it over. He knew how hard it was to try and rebuild, especially with assassins and privateers breathing down his neck. Not to mention his own court._

" _What exactly am I supposed to do with it once I find it?" he asked, crossing his arms as he looked back up to Colath. That was the part he wasn't exactly clear on. And Colath wouldn't give him the answers he wanted._

 _Colath just grinned. "You'll know when it happens."_

 _That just left Erik more frustrated and confused than before. But he shrugged it off, trying to focus on the main task, which was_ _ **finding**_ _it first. One problem at a time. And this was going to be a big problem._

* * *

Erik sighed as the ship lurched again. "Why did I agree to this?" he muttered to himself, dropping his head onto the desk in front of him. "I'm an idiot."


	7. Chapter 7

"You're kidding."

Erik crossed his arms and set his features in a stoic line. "You heard me." he responded, feeling a twinge of satisfaction as he watched her turn in a circle, a scowl on her face. He had to hold in a chuckle at her reaction. Her hands were planted on her hips as her gaze landed on her new companion.

"If you prefer, I can have you sitting in a harness scrubbing the grime off the bow." he said, pursing his lips. "I thought I would spare you from that, and to keep the men from gawking at you, but if you don't want-"

"Fine." she snapped. Christine wasn't afraid of hard work. She grew up working, and she knew how to do it well. But the fact that Erik had the _nerve_ to put her in the _Galley_ , set her anger boiling once again. She was angry beyond reason at this point, and it took everything she had not to spin around and throw a punch into his chiseled jaw. She clenched her teeth and turned to Cook, her eyes narrowing.

The man held his hands up in a defensive position, not wanting to be dragged into the middle of the argument that was unfolding in front of him. He was just there to do what the Captain said, and right now, that was to have the girl in the Galley with him, helping with meals and menial chores. But he had no intention of getting involved in whatever dispute the Captain seemed to have with this woman. Oh no. He planned on keeping his distance from that time bomb.

As quickly as her rage had come, it seemed to disappear. She turned a sweet smile on Erik, her hands still on her hips as she approached him. She wasn't an idiot. She knew he was doing it simply to irritate her. And she was going to do everything in her power to keep from giving him the satisfaction of seeing her react.

"Anything else, Cap'n?" she asked sweetly, her words dripping in both sugar and sarcasm. If that was the way he wanted to play it, then so be it. She could give just as good as she got. And Erik had better be willing to play to the end, because she wouldn't accept anything less.

He raised an eyebrow at her, trying to figure out what had happened. He grunted in response, turning on his heel and walking out without another word.

When she was sure he was gone, Christine let out a sigh and slumped against one of the thick bracers. "How do you people deal with him on a daily basis?" she asked, turning a dumbfounded look to the other man. "I can barely stand being in the same _room_ as him for more than five minutes." She scrubbed a hand down her face, her mind trying to catch up with everything that had just happened.

He simply shrugged. "We've learned to. He's not so bad once you get used to him."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't think I _want_ to get used to him."

He shrugged again. "Right now, it doesn't look like you have a choice."

Christine opened her mouth to shoot back a smart alec comment but managed to bite her tongue in time, snapping her jaws together. She decided instead to change the subject. At this point, that seemed like her best bet. "So, do you have a name?"

He laughed. "Luke. But most people call me Cook."

She crossed her arms and frowned at him, giving him a quick once over. He was a middle aged man, his face surprisingly clean shaven. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up past his elbows and he had a tattered towel thrown over his shoulder. His salt and pepper hair was tied in a ponytail at the nape of his neck to keep it out of his way as he worked. She could tell that he didn't used to spend all his time in a kitchen. His knuckles were calloused and his fingers were slightly twisted with age. His arms bulged as he crossed them, the biceps thick. His blue eyes were dark but held wisdom of many years, and she noticed the scar on his cheek. If she had to take a wild guess, Christine would venture to bet he was a retired carpenter.

"If ya done gawkin', ya might as well get ta work."

She blinked and raised an eyebrow, not realizing how long she had been standing there examining his appearance. "What exactly is it that I'm supposed to do?"

He shrugged. "I haven't had a chance ta take stock since tha last raid. If ya could do that for me, that'd be much appreciated."

Christine took a breath to compose herself and she nodded once. Setting her mind to the task, she worked quickly and rather efficiently. Luke smiled to himself as he listened to her muttering as she moved around the Galley, counting this and sorting that.

* * *

Meanwhile, above on the Main Deck, Raoul was already sweating off the meager breakfast he had 'enjoyed' earlier. He panted as he continued hauling on the heavy rope, already stripping off his shirt. Erik crossed his arms as he stood off to the side, fighting the smirk that was threatening to take over his features. He enjoyed watching the man sweat. But then again, he realized he shouldn't be too hard on him. Christine had said that she shoved a knife in his chest to keep him from blowing up like a balloon. Erik shared Daroga's feelings on physicians, and he was glad he didn't have to witness it. But he knew that if he pushed the officer too hard, he would push Christine away even more than he already had.

He realized a little too late that his stunt the previous night had sent their precarious relationship once again reeling. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to bang his head against the desk. It was his goal to get Christine to trust him. So why did he think it was a good idea to go around dumping her friend off the side of the ship?!

Quietly shaking his head at himself, he sighed. But he let the corner of his mouth flick up as he watched Raoul.

 _I hope Christine isn't going through something worse than this._ Raoul thought as he yanked on the rope once again, grunting and stumbling forwards as it was almost jerked out of his grasp as the sail began to furl, seemingly of its own accord.

Daroga watched both scenes play out with interest, a rare cigar between his lips as he stood back a few feet, his arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He watched as Raoul worked, his mind working. He remembered quite vividly the sounds of Christine _fixing_ him in the brig. And maybe it was just his imagination playing tricks on him, but the way Raoul was working was in no way consistent with someone who had a hole in his chest. He would have to keep a closer eye on him.

* * *

It took a couple hours, but Christine managed to go through everything and make a somewhat comprehensive list of their food supply. She was standing with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face.

"Luke, you do realize that half this food is bad, right?" she asked, turning her attention back to him. "We're going to have to throw it out."

She didn't get a response for a few seconds, but when she did, she jumped in surprise and turned around. He was almost doubled over, clutching his sides and laughing.

"What?" she asked, honestly confused.

"Oh, you've got a lot ta learn, love." he said with a grin. "That's the thing about long voyages. We never throw any food out."

Her mouth dropped open in surprise. "What?!" she demanded. "Are you trying to kill all of us?"

He chuckled again. "Take a look around, Christine. What do you see?" he said, gesturing to the small porthole used for light. She raised an eyebrow but looked out, seeing nothing but the ocean stretching out for miles.

"Water?"

"Exactly. There's no place to put in for more supplies. We use what we have. And if that means salting the meat beyond recognition, then that's what we do. If you're really hungry, then you won't complain about it."

She opened her mouth to say something but closed it. She repeated this a couple times, trying to figure out exactly what it was she wanted to say.

"Spit it out, love. Ya look like a fish doin' that."

Christine quietly shook her head. "It's a wonder any of you survive to the next voyage. That much salt will end up killing you." she said doubtfully. Before boarding the _Triumph,_ she had been reading a medical journal. And the doctor that wrote it had been studying the effects of salt on the human body. And he found that too much would slowly shut down the internal organs, in turn making the whole body fail.

Luke laughed and shrugged it off, ignoring the concerned look on her face. "Tell ya what. If ya think ya can make it taste better, then by all means, have a go. But when the men throw it back at you, don't complain ta me."

She crossed her arms. "Is that a challenge?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. Though she knew he was teasing her, she was never one to turn away a challenge. And at the moment, she needed a good distraction from her current predicament.

Luke raised an eyebrow. "Take it like ya wish, love."

She muttered under her breath, knowing what he was doing. She dropped her arms and began moving around the Galley, gathering what she knew she needed.

* * *

Erik had to admit, he got some sort of cruel amusement at watching the naval officer work. Though he was injured and enduring the harsh words of Erik's crew, combined with the occasional object hurled his way, he took it all in stride. And although he was loathe to admit it, he was impressed at the way the man was handling everything thrown his way.

Christine on the other hand was something else. She was fighting him every step of the way, and she did so gracefully. Whether it be subtle glares or outright sarcasm, she found a way to constantly annoy him.

And while he was beginning to admit to his attraction to the young woman, he was nowhere near ready to put up with her attitude every minute of the day. If he had put her on deck with Raoul, she would have been nothing but a constant headache. Not to say that she wasn't already, but he would have had to have dealt with all sorts of insults, defiance, and all around snark. He would much rather deal with Raoul's slow pace than her mouth.

Which is why he briefly felt a stab of guilt for leaving her with Cook. But, he was a smart man. He would learn how to deal with the woman just like Erik had. It might be a rough few days, but eventually, they would all settle into their positions.

He was glad that he hadn't had to put out any fires on the ship, so that was a good start. And he didn't smell any burning flesh, so he decided that was a step in the right direction. But there was something that accompanied the salty sea air that hadn't been there before, and it was quite pleasant.

Whatever it was, he didn't have the time to investigate at that moment. He still had plenty of research to do on the artifact that they were attempting to locate.

* * *

" _Do you really think it's hidden on an island in the middle of nowhere?"_

 _Colath raised an eyebrow. "And where exactly would you hide something like that?"_

 _Erik shrugged. It sounded like a lot of trouble for someone to go through to hide a single artifact. Why anyone would sail through the Devil's Sea just to hide something so small was beyond him. He would rather just bury it on one of the outlying islands and call it good. Sure, he would set the proper traps to keep any prying eyes away, but why go through the most treacherous waters known to man?_

" _Actually, don't answer that, Erik. I know you well enough to know the answer to that."_

 _Erik snorted, not knowing whether to be amused or offended._

" _Padrine is one of the most naturally fortified islands on Earth, my friend. Underwater geysers, sand and rock bars, and I've heard rumors about stray whirlpools."_

 _Erik raised an eyebrow. "So we have a location," he muttered. "Let's go get it."_

 _Colath stared at him blankly. "Have you been listening to a word I've been saying, boy?"_

 _Once again, Erik simply shrugged. He was given a job to do, and he would get it done, regardless of what the consequences appeared to be. "Devil's Sea, naturally fortified island. Keep going."_

 _The older man rolled his eyes, but continued describing everything that Erik would be up against. "Laugh now if ya want, boyo. But I guarantee you won't be laughing when your ship is overrun with Sirens."_

* * *

Erik chuckled at the memory. Colath was right. But there was more than one type of Siren that was trying to take over his ship. And her name was Christine.

He swore that woman would be the death of him. But he was determined to win whatever game it was that she was playing. Sooner or later, she would realize that she was in over her head.


End file.
